actually, I'm not that nice
it's been time to put the angel wings down
Good girl was the label I was assigned at birth. I think once adults realized I was shy, liked to read and was slightly more interested in academics than other children, that was pretty much it. I was one of the good ones. The praised I received from adults was almost ridiculous. The "See, you're not like these other ones" was constant. Compared to my loud, gritty and rough 2000s Brooklyn backdrop I was granted sainthood just by being quiet. Since I didn't ever fit in with my peers I lived off that validation of adults. I swam in it, drank it and drenched my sense of self in it and it seemed okay because we'll, these are adults, they are the ones with all the life experience and if they approve of me do much then I must be on my way to a life of success and greatness right?
Fast forward, to me now in my early thirties. I'm not that successful. I have a couple cool achievements under my belt but nothing as great as teenaged me who sacrificed everything she secretly desired to please adults thought she would. No big beautiful home. No super hot spouse. No riches. I look back at my life and wonder what the hell was that all for? I reflect back at myself the young girl who was afraid to miss a day at school or the chronically people pleasing "Sure, no problem! " final boss I was in my 20s. All those years I spent hiding my headaches from being overly chipper, pleasant and nauseatingly agreeable thinking it would pay off, I wonder was I ever that fcking pristine? Was I ever that good at all or was this my life long performance as a means to survive the fast, cold and concrete environment I was in?
I've thought about it and turns out I'm not that nice. I'm easily irritable and can be very sharp and sarcastic with others. I talk a lot of sht about people in my head and I at times enjoy being bossy a little too much. As I hold on to the very little remnant feathers of the angel wings I used to wear I feel liberated. The girl in me who begged for acceptance, validation and love through make shifting herself in a silently suffering saint is dying and the flawed but very human woman is emerging. I'm finally able to take off this heavy ass costume. I feel relief.